


I Saw Her Standing There

by Anon6285_omo (Anonymous6285)



Series: Omovember but in May 2020 [30]
Category: Nowhere Boy (2009), The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Birthday Party, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Omovember, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:15:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24461902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous6285/pseuds/Anon6285_omo
Summary: Day 30: free choice (party)
Series: Omovember but in May 2020 [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726780
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	I Saw Her Standing There

A skating party sounded like a great idea in theory, but Paul still wasn’t sure why he was stupid enough to choose it for his birthday. He’d only invited a few friends-- John, George, and Stu -- thinking that it would hopefully make it less crowded so that he could actually figure out how to skate. Because god forbid his friends figure out that he didn’t know how having never done it before.

His father didn’t seem to care when they got to the rink. He’d rented the skates for everybody, including Mike, and then let them all go have fun. 

After putting their skates on, everybody else seemed to get up without difficulty and filed out into the giant crowd of other skaters. But as soon as Paul stood up, he fell. Thank god the others were already gone or he would have been mortified.

His father was back at the bar, getting lunch, so that wasn’t a problem for him. He got back up and threw himself into the rink, despite what his gut was telling him.

And now, three hours later and desperate for a piss, he was really starting to regret his decision. So far, he hadn’t figured out shit, and he had been sitting on the floor for the better part of an hour while people whirled around him in circles. His friends had already eaten lunch, but none of them even seemed to notice that he was missing, still stuck in the rink.

Now that the pressure in his bladder had become enough to scare him, though, he tried getting up again, only to fall onto the floor again, a skate running over his finger. He cried out in pain, but still, nobody seemed to realise he was there. What kind of people would let a fifteen, no sixteen, year old sit crying on the floor and not even stop to help?

After another failed attempt to get up and skate off to the side, Paul decided to try to take the skates off. He had to piss so bad right now that he didn’t care what he had to do to get to the toilet. 

As he started to take them off, he realised just how tight they really were, and no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t figure out how to undo the plastic strap around his ankle. He tried to pull harder at it, but it wouldn’t budge.

But then, for the first time, his bladder contracted, and he curled in on himself, grabbing his crotch. To his absolute horror, it had grown damp. He cursed under his breath before getting up again. This time, he had finally gotten a bit of balance, but a lady came as fast as lightning out of nowhere and knocked him down to the ground.

More piss escaped him, but he couldn’t catch his breath long enough to realise it. When he did, he dug his fingernails into the top of the skates and started to pull at them with all his might, just as Stuart rolled up behind him.

“Paul? What’s up?” He squatted down to the ground to see Paul pulling at the skates in an attempt to get them off, and he ripped the boy’s hands away from them. “Hey! You can’t take them off! Your feet will get run over!”

Paul shook his head. “I don’t know how to skate, Stu. I just have to get out of here.”

“Hey, I could show you.” And then, John and George showed up.

“Macca, what’s the matter?” John asked, genuine concern in his voice. “I haven’t seen you this whole time.”

“Then maybe you should fucking look down!” The sheer anger in his voice scared all three of them, and Stuart started to stand up, grabbing onto Paul’s wrist to help him up, too.

“He doesn’t know how to skate, John.”

“What, that’s it?” George chuckled. But when he glanced down at Paul’s pants, he saw how damp the crotch was. “Paul?” he said carefully, not moving his gaze. Paul squirmed again, and it was clear to him what was wrong.

He put an arm around his friend and started to skate off with him, but as soon as he tried, Paul slipped and fell face first right into the floor.

“Shit! Paul, are you okay?” John had gotten closer to the two of them, putting a hand out to help his friend back up.

“John, I have to fucking piss!” Paul whined, and Stuart couldn’t help the little smile that crept up on his face. Paul got up once again and tried to skate off away from them, but he tripped and John caught him.

“You’ve got to piss? Why don’t you just go, mate?”

“You don’t think I‘ve been trying?” Paul snapped back, and realisation dawned on John.

“Come on, we’ll get you to the toilet, Macca.” He slowly started to skate off with Paul, who was balancing on his shoulder. After a few seconds, Paul doubled over and started to cry. “What’s the matter with you? Are you hurt?”

“John, I’m peeing.”

“Shit!” John picked him up off of the ground, much to both of their embarrassment, and skated off the rink as fast as he could. Paul had cut off his stream, now hopeful on making it to the toilet, but it still was stinging inside of him.

They were there within at most two minutes, and John set Paul down in the doorway, seeming to have forgotten that the boy didn’t actually know how to skate. Paul stood there dumbly for a few seconds before trying to get over to the urinal, falling once again on his face. 

And at that moment, the pressure had become too much. He was so close, but his bladder had finally had enough. He started to relieve himself, and as a puddle formed around him, John didn’t know what to do. He stayed where he was in the doorway, not wanting to upset Paul anymore than he had to.

George and Stuart appeared in the doorway, and when another one of Stu’s smirks played across his face, John smacked it off.

“It’s not bleedin’ funny, Stu.” His voice was cold, but it softened when he spoke again. “Paul, do you want to get up?”

“I don’t know how,” came the weakest voice any of them had ever heard from Paul.

“I’ll help,” George said, and he helped Paul up. As soon as the younger boy made eye contact with John, he started to cry.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I ruined the party, didn’t I?”

John chuckled. “I mean, it’s your party. I don’t mind.” Paul couldn’t find it in himself to smile. “Let’s go find your dad, okay?”

“Oh, god…” Paul covered his face. “This is humiliating. God, and Mike’s gonna see, too!” He looked down at his pants, and Stuart spoke.

“You’ll be fine. If Mike laughs at you, I’ll punch him.”

“Don’t. I’ll probably get in trouble for it.” He sighed, not daring trying to move around in his puddle, even with George right next to him. “Could you help me get these skates off?”

John nodded. “Of course. Sorry about all of this. You don’t really deserve that on your sixteenth birthday, you know.”

“It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so,” George hummed. “Let’s just go get this taken care of so we can go back to your place and eat some cake!”

“They’re cupcakes,” Paul replied quietly.

“Shit. Well, as long as it’s food.” Then Paul laughed.

“Yeah, let’s go find my dad.”


End file.
